A Nice Place to Visit
by Beckers
Summary: A village with a mystery could cost our heroes their lives! 4 Chapters.
1. One

_Hi, reaching into my archives and pulling out some HERCULES fics that haven't seen the light of day for quite sometimes. Hope you enjoy them. _

_Beckers_

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**_Written by Beckers and Jackie

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"Okay Herc, let me get this straight." Iolaus lifted his hands to punctuate his confusion, "I understand that Irrigrotus is a third cousin or something to Ascleptius, the healing god, but I still don't understand how anything he did managed to help the Greeks of Gaspius win a battle against the Persians."  
  
The two heroes walked, as they always did, on the path to what they hoped would be good times, great memories and a wonderful vacation. It was Iolaus' pick this time and they were going to one of the rowdiest cities in Greece. _Gaspius_. A place where wine, women and song were the norm. Not to mention its gambling palaces, fine accommodations and the best stage entertainment this side of Athens.  
  
Normally Hercules wouldn't be interested in all these things, especially since the city had a reputation for being rather ferocious. However, with Iolaus' contagious enthusiasm it was hard not to get excited. Maybe they really would be able to just take it in and enjoy themselves for a change. Once in awhile over-indulgence wasn't such a bad thing.  
  
"I mean," Iolaus continued, "Irrigrotus watched over the lakes and streams around the city and while I know the waters are supposed to be ..." He lifted fingers to make quotation marks, "â€ delicious and fortifying' I just don't see how..."  
  
Hercules sighed as his friend babbled on. He just was not going to give up until the legend was told. The demigod honestly wondered at times if he wasn't traveling with a thirteen-year-old. "Okay, okay - I'll tell you." Hercules began, "It happened over fifty years ago. The Persians and Greeks had started a battle near Scythia but it was very easy to see who was going to win. Although the Greeks battled hard, the Persian army out-numbered them three to one. There were many fatalities. Our army - which by the time it got to the Tarsus River was more like a gathering - were tired, hungry and ready to surrender."  
  
"What happened?" Iolaus urged, interested.  
  
"Irrigrotus appeared to them and said to drink the waters of the river. They did and each soldier suddenly became revitalized. Apparently Irrigrotus, seeing how the army was being beaten and feeling sorry for what he decided could be potential followers."  
  
"Don't tell me, let me guess." Iolaus interjected, "He put a little whammy on the river and before the Persians knew it the Greek soldiers were on them like Brutus on Caesar."  
  
"And since then every year at this time a huge festival is dedicated to the city's patron god."  
  
"Who is Irrigrotus, of course."  
  
"You'd think so," Hercules paused, trying to recall the story he was told, "but he's not. The city's patron is supposed to be a big secret, known only to the citizens themselves."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know. One of those weird city traditions I guess." Then Hercules shrugged, "It's sad in a way because Gaspius started as a great farming community. The crops grew well for about forty years because the farmers used the waters of Tarsus. But now Gaspius doesn't farm at all. They seem to do everything but farm."  
  
"Wow, talk about thanks but no thanks,' to a god that actually managed to help mortals. Does Gaspius prosper?"  
  
"Seems that way. But seeing as how they have a reputation for violence and excess it wouldn't surprise me if Ares was their patron god now."  
  
"Oh, don't even go there." Iolaus chuckled with mock pain, "I just want to have a little fun, not face your half brother. Is Gaspius much further?"  
  
"Nope, just over this hill."  
  
When the two men got to the top of the bluff, they looked down at what they were facing...and were puzzled. Below them was the city but instead of the disheveled chaos expected, Gaspius had been cleaned up for the celebration. Children ran gleefully and unafraid about the stone paved streets waving colorful parchment pennants. What's more, the adults greeted one another cheerfully, with a wave and "hello." Not a mean word or even slightly disruptive face in the crowd.  
  
Hercules and Iolaus took in the large fabric banner, which hung, strung between buildings and announced:  
  
"Welcome to Gaspius! The Friendliest City in Greece!"  
  
"Speaking of _weird_," Iolaus whispered as they slowly descended into the city.

* * *

Slowly, a little confused, taking in all the happy and seemingly content faces, Hercules and Iolaus walked through the city waving at those who tossed them a hardy and friendly, "Hello, strangers!" or "It's good to see you! Have a wonderful day!"  
  
"Something isn't right here, Iolaus," Hercules murmured. "This place isn't at all like we were told."  
  
"Telling me." Iolaus took a bite from a fruit covered pastry that was handed to him by an elderly woman, "but the food's good." He finished the treat and licked his fingers. "Well, Gaspius isn't exactly what I was in the mood for but it's a nice enough place. You should be glad they seem to have turned over a new leaf." Yet, Iolaus understood what Hercules was saying. Both had been warriors far too long not to instinctively feel the strangeness of their surroundings.  
  
Then ...  
  
"Hercules!"  
  
"Look, it's Hercules! He's arrived!"  
  
Before they knew it, the men were surrounded by a throng of ecstatic citizens from Gaspius, clapping them on the backs and wishing them well.  
  
"Let's hear it for our Guest of Honor!" a large, round and jolly-faced man called out. His proclamation was followed with a score of cheers. "Welcome Hercules!"  
  
"But how did you know...?" Iolaus began.  
  
"I am the local inn keeper," the jolly man announced, "and you and your friend will be staying in my establishment. Free of charge, of course!"  
  
"But how did you know I was coming?" Hercules asked the question Iolaus attempted to ask before he was interrupted.  
  
"We didn't know." A tall, lovely woman wearing a thin, silky-white garment moved to the front of the crowd, "I am a representative of _The Sisters of Reclamation_," she gently tossed a bit of her long auburn over a slender shoulders, "and we had a collective vision over a week ago that a great warrior would soon be joining us, thus insuring a prosperous and safe trade season."  
  
"And now here you are, with your friend, Iolfus!" the innkeeper added.  
  
"That's _Iolaus_, friend of Hercules," the hunter automatically corrected.  
  
"Of course," the innkeeper said quietly then louder, "and now we must take you to the city temple for the ceremony of acceptance."  
  
"Really, I don't think..." Hercules began.  
  
Both Hercules and Iolaus were pushed along by the crowd, to the city square in front of an impressive temple, where two men stood at the top of an elaborate stone stairway. The men wore black robes. One was a young man with a stern expression on his callow face. The second, the obvious leader and spokesman, had long gray hair and had no doubt been very handsome as a younger man.  
  
"I am Minister Angerles," he announced, lifting his hands to both preside over the celebration and greet the newcomers. "Welcome Hercules, to our grateful city."  
  
The crowd gently prodded Hercules and he climbed up a few of the stone steps, a little uncomfortable.  
  
Iolaus, not being the center of attention, found himself aware of two things: First, the lovely _Sister of Reclamation _to his right was holding his arm and was giving Iolaus a long, rather seductive stare. He wouldn't have minded usually but considering the woman was of a religious order he felt he might be sinning just by having impure thoughts about her. Second, a young man to his left, sporting a rather wild head of ash-blond hair, huffed irritably at the words being expressed by Minister Angerles. Iolaus thought he heard him whisper, _"Hypocrite," _but couldn't be sure. The young man briefly met his eyes then looked away.  
  
"And so we officially kick off this festival. I, Minister Angerles of the most sacred temple of Gaspius and my aide, the most honorable Hertuges." The younger man bowed ever so slightly to a polite hand clapping. "Will officiate over our annual bonfire, the symbol of our respect and prosperity!"  
  
Then came long and very loud applause.  
  
All seemed gleeful with the notable exception of the young man Iolaus was watching. He couldn't help turning to him and saying, "Nice party."  
  
"Yeah, if you like this sort of thing," came the gruff answer. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be. Someone has to watch out for things."  
  
Iolaus smiled and offered a hand. "I'm Iolaus," he said and then shook with his new friend.  
  
"They call me Palaxius. And your friend is Hercules. He needs no introduction. Everyone knows him -- but it's too bad he doesn't know Gaspius better."  
  
For the moment, Iolaus decided to ignore the comment. It was obvious this kid had an ax to grind with Minister Angerles and, all things considered, it might not be any of he or Hercules' business.  
  
The crowd began to break up and Iolaus looked over at Hercules who was signing autographs for a few children who had approached him. "Sometimes I think being a hero is Hercules' curse," Iolaus mentioned, with a brief but thoughtful chuckle.  
  
Palaxius looked from Hercules to Iolaus and allowed a smile of his own, "Listen, I'm going to the tavern just down the street here. If you and Hercules want to stop by after you check into your rooms at the inn, I'll be there. I think we should talk."  
  
"Thanks, we might do that." Iolaus again shook the young man's hand and watched him walk off.  
Nice kid but there was something a little odd about him too.

* * *

"I'll tell you what, Iolaus, we'll go over to the inn and have lunch then we'll go to the tavern and meet with your new friend," Hercules suggested as he and the hunter walked in the direction of the their lodgings.  
  
The innkeeper had come up to Hercules as he was signing a toy for one of the Gaspius children and asked if he and Iolaus would consider dining with his humble family. "I'd consider it an insult if you refuse," he pushed.  
  
What was a demigod to do?  
  
"You know Hercules, you tend to outwardly dismiss it but I think you really enjoy all of this hero worship," Iolaus jokingly mentioned as they walked to the inn.  
  
"Oh come on, Iolaus, you know I never..."  
  
"I know. You never go looking for attention but it always seems to find you, good or bad. But when the good stuff comes it's nice, isn't it?"  
  
"Well," Hercules was forced to nod, "Yeah, you're right. Have to admit I'd rather be sleeping in a warm bed tonight then lying on the cold, hard ground."  
  
Just before Hercules and Iolaus were ready to cross the street, to go to the inn where they were expected, they were startled by a loud argument. It was close by, in the middle of the city square, near a huge stone and marble fountain.  
  
"Stop it, Gorgus!" a woman, wearing a desperate expression, pulled at what appeared to be her husband's arm, "or you will be the ruin of the festival!"  
  
"But did you hear what he said? He's just like Palaxius and their type will be the ruin of the entire city!"  
  
A crowd had gathered around what were obviously two men in the middle of a disagreement.  
  
Hercules and Iolaus gently pushed their way in to see what was happening.  
  
"You're stuck in the past!" A dark boy, no more than seventeen years of age, was confronting the couple. "Palaxius is a good man with great ideas but this city - the entire region - is deaf to what he says and how his theories can be put to good use. We cannot live like this forever." The boy turned to the crowd, imploring, "It's got to stop or soon Gaspius will destroy itself!" Spotting a few who nodded at what he was saying, the boy lifted hands to his fellow Gaspians, "Tell me what Palaxius says is truly wrong, that he and all of us in the rebellion don't know what we're talking about. You know what I'm saying! You can't! Give us your support!" he urged.  
  
"I'll give you something!' an anonymous voice suddenly called from the crowd and a stone was thrown, striking the boy above his right eye. He flinched and fingers touched his forehead as blood seeped from the wound.  
  
Shouts both angered and approving came from the crowd.  
  
"Stop it!" Hercules moved to the front, followed closely by Iolaus who positioned himself by the injured boy. "What is this all about?"  
  
"It's town rabble, Hercules." The man who had been part of the argument stepped forward. "We have traditions and some of the youngsters of Gaspius think we should pull away from them."  
  
With a sigh, Hercules folded his large arms over his chest. "Fine, have your argument but at least talk calmly, like civilized people."  
  
"You don't understand." The man's wife moved forward, both nervous and defensive. "A lot of us have lived here a long time. We were here when it was bad, when we lived a hand to mouth existence, when farming was all we were allowed to do. We don't want that anymore. We've worked hard for what we have, which includes our yearly festival to honor our patron god. Is that so terribly wrong? The young people of this city will tell you it is."  
  
"She's not telling you everything!" the boy called out, Iolaus by his side. "She's not telling you that our prosperity comes at a horrible price."  
  
"Blasphemer!"  
  
"No, listen to him. He speaks the truth!"  
  
Suddenly, all Tartarus broke loose. Fists began to fly in the crowd and citizens, those who agreed and disagreed, were at odds. Women jumped onto men's backs attempting to scratch at their faces. Bodies sailed into the air impacting with one another. Not long after, when the riot had reached it zenith, temple soldiers appeared to break it up.  
  
And, of course, Hercules and Iolaus found themselves mopping up.  
  
"One thing I have to say," Iolaus mentioned as he slugged a brute who intended to do the same to him, "this is a little more like the Gaspius I was told about!"  
  
Hercules nodded just before tossing a man over Iolaus' head into the fountain.

* * *

The heroes heard the clanging of some keys and watched, more than a little curious, as the guards in the outer room stood at attention, away from their aromatic afternoon meal.  
Hercules and Iolaus were the last two of those who had been arrested for public brawling. The cell had been quite full a couple hours previous but soon, one by one, men and women were bailed out and now it was down to them.  
  
Minister Angerles had entered and Palaxius was with him.  
  
A few words were exchanged with the Captain then they were following him, flanked by another guard. Once in the cell chamber, Palaxius made brief eye contact with Iolaus then turned to Angerles, "Yes sir, these are the two men. They had nothing to do with initiating the brawl. They were trying to stop it when matters got out of hand. I saw it all."  
  
Iolaus tried to meet the young man's eyes again. He had been looking for Palaxius when they discovered who the argument was about but he hadn't seen him.  
  
"Very good." Angerles mimed the guard beside him to open the cell door. "Please forgive this, Hercules. You are our honored guest but we have treated you badly."  
  
"Mistakes happen," Hercules commented. He looked at Palaxius, "Thank you for coming forward."  
  
The young man nodded. "It was the least I could do," but he looked troubled.  
  
"No really," Iolaus stepped forward when the cell door opened, "Maybe we could have that drink later at the tav..."  
  
"Yes," Palaxius head tilted up, almost inspired, looking hard at both men. "In the town tavern. I'd still like to talk with both of you."  
  
It was obvious to both Iolaus and Hercules that he needed to speak with them regarding something very important.  
  
"Unfortunately," Angerles shut the cell door himself, apparently unaware of the boy's undercurrent. "This incident has depleted village morale. Because there has been violence, the festival has been postponed. Our people are very angry and volatile." The minister bit his lower lip then added, "I'm afraid I am going to have to ask both of you to leave Gaspius immediately. For your own safety. There are many here who blame you for this disruption, Hercules."  
  
Without a word, but obviously agitated, Palaxius turned and walked from the jail.  
  
"No problem," Iolaus spoke up quickly, noting something inexplicable in their ally's eyes before he left. The boy was frightened, he was sure of it. Still, the sooner they exited this crazy town the better.  
  
Hercules had seen it too and nodded, "Of course." He watched as the minister turned, with the Captain and guard following and walked from the area. Coming to a decision, Hercules took a deep breath and mentally studied the situation, "Iolaus, go to the inn and get your sword and our supplies. While you're doing that I'm going to go to the tavern and talk with Palaxius."  
  
"Think that's a good idea after the warning we were just given?"  
  
"It's because of that warning I think I should go. I want to try to get to the bottom of whatever is going on here. Something just isn't adding up and I'm not talking about their weird laws, secret gods, traditions or even calm where there has always been disorder and violence. Come to the tavern when you're done."  
  
"Gotcha, Herc."

* * *

If the people of Gaspius were angry with Hercules for ruining their fun, the appearance of the demigod in their home town tavern didn't seem to illicit a negative reaction. Of course, those who were there were more interested in their ale, the flute music from a talented musician and the beautiful, scantily clad woman who was on a small stage dancing. Hercules could only assume the men and few women in the place were there to drown their sorrows. Postponed festivals had a way of doing that to the populace.  
  
"Palaxius, you acted as if you had something to say at the jail but now you're tight lipped. Why?" Hercules asked quietly, leaning over the bar, as he observed Palaxius lift the mug in his hand to his lips.  
  
He was nervous. Anyone who was watching could see this.  
"You and Iolaus need to leave. The sooner the better," he said tightly.  
  
"We plan to but something is going on here."  
  
"No, there isn't. But there will be if you don't leave -- quickly."  
  
It didn't sound like a threat. It was a plea. "Tell me about the fight. Those two men were arguing over you. There was a mention of some kind of rebellion. What's it about?"  
  
"I didn't hear them. I wasn't around."  
  
"Of course you were. You told Minister Angerles."  
  
Frustrated, Palaxius leaned into Hercules and spoke quietly but firmly, "I lied, okay?" He grunted in fear, "I had to come forward and say something to get you two out of jail. I was being helpful because I consider Iolaus a friend." He then gulped, "Please Hercules, just leave. You and Iolaus..." He could see the resolve on the demigod's face and knew he was not going to leave Gaspius until reassured, "Hercules, trust me. Matters are in hand but you don't want to be here tomorrow." He drained his mug.  
  
"What aren't you telling me?" Hercules insisted.  
  
Slightly less sober than he was when he came into the tavern, Palaxius murmured, "I'll tell you this -- We have got to change Gaspius. We can't keep depending on the gods to serve us just because of all the sacrifices we make." Then, "But some people will suffer. It's always the way in a revolution. The innocent pay."  
  
Hercules nodded. He understood about sacrifices. Men and women were always making sacrifices to the gods, their land and souls if necessary, but did the gods ever really appreciate it? No, not ever. Even the good ones demanded more than what most could give.  
  
Palaxius laid his head down on the bar, apparently tired of conversation.  
  
With a sigh, leaning back in his chair, Hercules wished Iolaus would show up. He and Palaxius seemed to have bonded. He'd probably get a lot more out of him than an ill received demigod.

* * *


	2. Two

Iolaus entered the small, dim inn room where he and Hercules were supposed to have spent the night. It wasn't a bad place. It was clean, with two sturdy cots, but small. Iolaus actually expected more seeing as how Hercules was "the guest of honor" but it was probably all that the innkeeper could afford to give up. Iolaus understood. They had had worse.  
  
The tiny window on the far wall barely let in any sun and what was there crept slowly across the floor of the room, briefly disrupted by Iolaus' shadow when he entered. He hesitated as soon as he did so. The door had been left open, if only by a small degree. Iolaus was certain he'd closed it when they'd left that morning, dropping off their gear. Carefully, sensing movement behind him, Iolaus picked up his sword, which was lying on his cot. He then quickly turned --  
  
_Nothing. _  
  
"Iolaus, you've gone paranoid," he said aloud, shaking his head. Iolaus quickly dropped his sword onto the cot again and gathered the rest of their things. If they left now they could camp in a glade a few miles outside of the city before it got too dark to hunt for dinner.  
  
"Please! Anyone! Help!" called a strained female voice from the hall.  
  
Iolaus met the woman at his opened door, "Where?" He noted she was one of the Sisters of Reclamation, dressed in her silky white gown. As a matter of fact, she was the same Sister who had held onto his arm this morning and appeared to be making advances. Yet now, she merely looked frightened.  
  
"Sir, it's in the town circle. The gods will be so angry during this week of peace to find we have sinned mightily twice during the same day. Gaspius will certainly feel their wrath, particularly that of our patron, and so many of us will be hurt!"  
  
Never one to turn down such a plea, especially from one so pretty, Iolaus turned to grab his sword from the cot. If there was going to be any fallout let it be on him, not this very strange city, "Okay, I'll see what I can do."  
  
Then he heard another sound. It was light, less than a squeak or an in drawn breath, but it was clearly male and a test for Iolaus' reflexes.  
  
The hunter turned and ducked just in time to be missed by a man in dark robes, who swung at his head with what looked like a heavy frying pan.  
  
Startled, The Sister squealed and moved to the other side of the room, backing herself into a corner away from harm.  
  
Iolaus was stunned. His attacker was Hertuges, the temple aide, the young man with the serious expression who had been standing close to Angerles during Hercules' welcoming ceremony. With gusto, he swung again at Iolaus but had miscalculated his own skills and that of his victim.  
Iolaus kicked out at the hand, which held the frying pan, sending the makeshift weapon sailing across the room to land on the bed next to Iolaus sword. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that," Iolaus scolded. He agilely moved out of the way when the clumsy aide came running at him determined in whatever mission he was on to bring the hunter down.  
  
Instead, Hertuges ran into the bedroom wall and knocked himself back to lie on the dusty floor.  
  
"I'm sure there is a good reason for all this," Iolaus quipped, "and I'd love to hear all about it."  
  
Panicked, the aide twisted around and tried to scramble to his feet and out of the room. Iolaus, however, put a booted foot on his back and held him in place.  
  
"Not so fast." He looked over at the woman her mouth open in apparent shock. "You have any idea what this is about?"  
  
"N-N-no." she stammered, lifting her delicate hands to her ivory face. "I just came for help. Could it have something to do with the fight in the square?" she asked flustered.  
  
The fight. Iolaus almost forgot about it. He turned from her and looked down again at the man on the floor, "I doubt it but I have a feeling this guy ..." The hunter's sentence was unexpectedly cut off, followed by a faint-painful moan as he fell to the wooden boards beside the quickly raising minister-in-training.  
  
Behind him stood The Sister and what was left of a porcelain water pitcher in her hands. With a satisfied smile, she looked down at the unconscious hunter. She then laid what was left of the pitcher on a bedside table. The woman glanced once at the young aide, who now stood, dumbfounded, beside her.  
  
"I thought Hercules was the one we had to worry about. This guy was tough," he said, rubbing at his smarting hand. "I'm sorry I failed."  
  
"No matter," the woman offered him charitably with a slightly superior tone to her voice. "Our research told us he is a warrior-hunter and most importantly a man with appetites." She smiled. "Both he and Hercules tend to be trusting of pretty, innocent faces. I'm afraid you just don't have," she saucily bit her full tinted lower lip before going on, "the right equipment to get the job done as it should be done, dear boy."  
  
Both the man and woman chuckled.  
  
"Now it's time to really go to work." Hertuges bent down to grasp Iolaus' arm, dragging him from the room.

* * *

"He's probably off with some dancing girls or something," Hercules grumbled impatiently, making his way into the inn. The demigod's anger was a mask for worry. Too much time had passed since Iolaus had gone to retrieve their things for the road.  
  
Hercules walked up the short staircase and approached their room. He was instantly stricken when noting the door was wide open.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Iolaus' sword was lying there on his cot, as were their things, in a small bundle.  
  
Hercules quickly looked around the room, but there was no sign of a struggle. Could something have come up and Iolaus left in a hurry to help? But even that didn't seem right. Iolaus would have automatically took his sword, particularly if there were danger. Hercules knew his friend well. "Okay, maybe I'm just over-reacting here." he murmured.  
  
Then Hercules saw something on the floor that caused an involuntary shiver. A single blood droplet. Just a small spot really -- but it was fresh.  
  
"Okay, not over-reacting," he said aloud. He had to talk to someone who could tell him what was going on in this village. No more playing around. Iolaus was in trouble.

* * *

He slowly awakened.  
  
His head hurt. Bad. And his hands and legs were chained to a damp stone wall.  
  
No old hunter's tricks were going to get him out of this one. The small dagger hidden in a discreet pocket of his boot was gone as well. He no longer felt the faint and comforting cold touch of its handle against his ankle. The room in which he was imprisoned was pitch-black, although when he'd semi-consciously tried to defend himself earlier against his captors, it had been in broad daylight. How many hours had passed since then?  
  
Iolaus brushed off his worries quickly. Hercules had probably already been at the inn, seen he was missing, and any second now would burst through the doors of this prison to rescue him. The hunter squinted in the dark. Where were the doors, anyway?  
  
His silent question was answered when a loud creak interrupted his train of thought, spilling moonlight onto the floor and up to his feet.  
  
The woman, the bane of his existance right now, entered. A small gratified smile was on her comely face. "You're awake and congratulations." With her she carried a small bowl of water and a white cloth.  
  
"Congratulations?" Iolaus asked.  
  
She came closer, moving a hand to stroke one side of his face, plainly enjoying herself, "I really like you, Iolaus. It's a shame, really, that Hercules couldn't have been The Chosen instead. He probably would have been if our master thought they could keep him still. Our patron god would truly be impressed with the son of Zeus." She quickly reconsidered, "On the other hand, having Zeus angry with us because of his son?" She made a clicking noise with her tongue, "Doesn't matter. Hercules' best friend - a warrior and hero in his own right - is good too. It's just such a shame." Again, she lifted a hand.  
  
Iolaus abruptly turned away from her touch and looked about the now dimly lit chamber, a little frightened.  
  
"Oh, don't bother. You can't escape. I searched you earlier for weapons and ... what an arsenal you had on you." She smiled again, barely disguising the double meaning.  
  
Iolaus swallowed, not dwelling on the hidden implications of her words. Instead he turned his attention to other matters, "What did you congratulate me for? What do you mean by 'The Chosen?'"  
  
"It's purely ceremonial," she said matter-of-factly, dipping the cloth in her bowl of water.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"You don't have to." She lifted the cloth and began to gently clean his face, neck, chest and shoulders. "We want you to look pretty when we present you to the crowd tomorrow morning." Then, without thinking, she licked her lips and ran a hand down to his toned stomach. Don't expect Hercules to rescue you, Iolaus. He's going to be long gone before tomorrow's ceremony. Arrangements are being made for that right now."  
  
"I don't believe you. He wouldn't just leave. Not without me."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
Iolaus stared at the woman as she continued with her chore, which seemed to give her far more pleasure than the object of her ministrations. He never thought he could dislike any woman so much.  
  
"Goodbye, dearest," she whispered in his ear. She kissed Iolaus gently on the cheek before departing.  
  
He swooned for a split second. She did have nice eyes. What am I thinking?'  
  
Iolaus pulled at his chains. He really had no idea what to expect but whatever it was, it would be soon. Night only lasted so long.

* * *

"Hercules, I don't know what you're talking about and I have no idea where your friend is." Minister Angerles, dressed in eveningwear, leaned against the large stone fireplace in his living quarters. "As a matter of fact, I thought both of you had gone by now."  
  
Attempting to practice as much patience as he could under the circumstances, Hercules clenched his mighty fists and closed his eyes as he spoke. "Iolaus came up missing just after we left jail today. He was supposed to go to our room and pick up our things. He's been gone ever since. Something has happened to him."  
  
Angerles lifted a hand and rubbed his chin, seemingly thinking about the topic earnestly. "Hercules, did you ever stop to think that perhaps your friend just left Gaspius without you?"  
  
"Iolaus wouldn't leave without telling me. He's got far too much character for that."  
  
"Does he?" Angerles almost smiled as he stared into the fireplace, as if he knew something Hercules didn't. "I've heard he was once a thief and, as a teenager, was in a gang. That type of person, even if he has been touch by the greatness of the son of Zeus, can be very unpredictable."  
  
Hercules stared at Angerles, unbelieving. "How do you know Iolaus' past?"  
  
He faced Hercules, his light colored robe now glistening against the flickering light of the fire. "I make it my business to know who is in my city," he said simply. "Leave here, Hercules, as you've been ordered. If Iolaus shows up we'll send him back on the road and he'll join you shortly."  
  
Feeling his lips tremble with fury, knowing when he was being lied to and cast off, Hercules took in a breath and his voice was low and threatening. "I'll leave, Minister, but I'll be back. My brother, Iphicles, is the King of Corinth. Iolaus is a good friend of his too. King Iphicles commands a great army. On his order, they will go through this city, tearing it apart piece by piece until we find Iolaus. And if we do and he's been hurt you will pay the price."  
  
Then Hercules turned and walked from the chamber, slamming the huge double doors behind him.  
  
For the first time in possibly his entire life, Angerles appeared worried.

* * *

It was morning and he was drugged.  
  
Iolaus knew it the minute he felt the dizziness and noted a lack of motor coordination. You're an idiot.' the hunter-warrior chastised himself and his appetite. He hadn't eaten since the scant prison lunch yesterday and the breakfast he was served this morning was just too tantalizing. Eggs, strips of lean meat along with bread, honey and goat's milk. He was hungry, as usual, but should have known better.  
  
With a great effort, Iolaus tried his best to keep on his feet but even with one of the sturdy prison walls as a brace, he couldn't prevent the inevitable crumple into a sitting position. His legs were like jelly.  
  
"And things had started out so well today," Iolaus mumbled sarcastically. When he'd awakened before the sun came up and discovered himself unchained from the wall, lying on a pile of straw, Iolaus had been curious. At least these people thought enough of their chosen to make him somewhat comfortable before whatever ceremony he was supposed to be involved in. Then the food was slipped through a slot at the bottom of the door. He heard a murmur of "Eat well," that he thought might have been from the Sister. Maybe that's what reassured him initially. She did seem fond of him, after all.  
  
But now...  
  
"Hercules, if you're going to rescue me, now would be a real good time." Iolaus leaned his back against the wall he had been using as a brace and irritably kicked out at the mocking, empty plate, where he had dropped it onto the floor. "Hurry, please." 


	3. Three

"Palaxius, you know we are with you," the young, dark lad unconsciously lifted a hand to touch the bandage wrapped around his cut forehead. "But are you sure this is the right time?"  
  
They were huddled together in a secret room, twenty young men and women, Palaxius and his friends. Yet, none were reassured when yesterday their leader showed signs of crumbling under the pressure at the tavern. A few saw Palaxius get quietly drunk with Hercules watching.  
  
Palaxius told his comrades when he saw Hercules enter Gaspius yesterday he thought they had gained an ally but soon reconsidered when good sense reared its head. Minister Angerles was honoring Hercules and, after such an ego massage, he might not be inclined to believe in a ragtag band of revolutionaries.  
  
Iolaus, on the other hand, he wanted to trust. There was something about him that made Palaxius believe they were kindred spirits of a kind. But now Iolaus was taken and if there was a possibility they could save him ...  
  
"There will be no better time. If we don't act now, as we've planned to, we'll regret it for the rest of our lives." Palaxius spoke low but urgently, "We've seen this go on for far too long. We've all lost someone dear to us -- and has it made a difference? Has it?"  
  
All in the room shook their heads. No, nothing had changed.  
  
A red haired young man, a bit older than Palaxius and the others spoke. "But you saw what happened yesterday. Sherman here just mentioned your name and the idea of revolution and the crowd went ballistic. I think there are far more in Gaspius that want to stick with the old ways than move into the future."  
  
"I don't agree with that," Palaxius countered. "I saw many back away, just watching the fight, and a good portion of the crowd was fighting for Sherman, not against him." He lifted a hand and ruffled the boy's hair a bit. "It's a good thing you have a hard head, my friend."  
  
A chuckle came from the gathering.  
  
A young woman, wearing dark brown leathers and standing firm said, "He's right. And the city's loyalty spin - even if they aren't truly certain of our motives - is one reason we have to move now. The opportunity is here and the fence sitters are out there. We have to open their eyes now. We have to show them what they're thinking isn't wrong."  
  
"And," Palaxius added, "we have to show Minister Angerles that he isn't lord and master over Gaspius, that it's people should have a say despite tradition."  
  
"Good words." came a deep call from across the room. "And if you believe them you really might have a chance."  
  
Hercules stood at the now opened door, "I'm willing to help you if you'll help me."  
  
He walked in the rest of the way.

* * *

"On your feet."  
  
Stupefied and half-asleep, he barely heard the guard as he and a comrade took Iolaus rather roughly by the arms and forced him to stand upright. He tried to concentrate on their voices, to what they said and what was happening around him, but it was as if his mind was shrouded by fog.  
  
Still, clamping down on some inner strength, he did make an escape attempt. Iolaus punched out once, connecting with one of the guard's jaw, but was quickly brought down to his knees by the other guard who chopped once on the back of his neck. Iolaus' usually quick reflexes were not at their best.  
  
"Not a good move, little man," the guard who Iolaus punched grabbed him cruelly by the vest and prepared to give The Chosen the beating of his life.  
  
"No, there's no time for this." the second guard warned. "Besides, Minister Angerles will have your hide if he's marked up before the ceremony."  
  
Although there was little fear that the weakened Iolaus would fight them further, the men nevertheless tied his hands together in front of him with a heavy rope. The two temple guards then carried the smaller, weakened man between them from the prison.  
  
"What's going to happen?" Iolaus managed to whisper. "Where's Hercules?"  
  
One guard chuckled and the other merely acknowledged the questions by stating that Iolaus would never have to concern himself with Hercules or anyone else ever again.  
  
Iolaus blinked against the sunlight as he was brought outside, where he heard the hullabaloo of celebration. Flower petals, undoubtedly tossed to the cheering crowd by The Sisters of Reclamation, spotted the street as well as other confetti. When they turned a corner Iolaus saw great jubilation. It was mid-morning and the festival was in full swing. He could hear children singing, men and women cheering, and game playing. Others, Iolaus saw, were eating as if this might be their last meal.  
  
"Don't eat the eggs," he murmured almost drunkenly to the revelers.  
  
Iolaus was pulled into the hub of the city, where the main event was to take place, and he came to realize just how important it was to be selected The Chosen, whatever it might mean. He was in great danger - Iolaus knew this without a doubt - but for a split second, he almost felt venerable. The citizens of Gaspius were attempting to move past each other to get a better look at him, some even slapped him generously across the back and called, "You're the man!" He was being treated as some kind of celebrity. 'If only he could feel joy,' Iolaus thought. 'If only I could be sure he wasn't going to come to any harm.'  
  
"So many people..." he whispered to no one but himself. Some were laughing and cheering and others watched with solemn acceptance. A few, Iolaus noted as he was pushed up a platform onto a wooden stage, even appeared concerned.  
  
Minister Angerles and his two aides watched Iolaus as he was presented to them. Behind them were three Sisters of Reclamation, including the woman Iolaus knew so well. She was carelessly twisting a lock of her long auburn hair around a finger then winked at Iolaus when their eyes met.  
It was crazy but he actually felt a little more comfortable knowing she was there.  
  
Behind them, separated by a plank, was a larger structure. It was covered over by a huge length of dark fabric that, apparently, was to be uncovered and presented at a later time.  
  
Iolaus was turned clumsily around, his bound hands in front of him. Now, he looked out at the crowd, attempted to clear his vision and take in their responses. Perhaps it wasn't going to be so bad, he considered with some lingering hope. After all, there were little boys and girls about. Would their parents really want them to see something as ghastly as a man breathing his last breath? Maybe, just maybe...  
  
"Friends and citizens," Angerles began, "as is always the case this time of year, we must now pay tribute, demonstrating our obedience and thankfulness to our patron god!"  
  
A roar of exultation and anticipation came from a good portion of the crowd.  
  
"We have prayed to the gods for fifty years asking each season that our city prosper. Some years are better than others are but this year our patron has heard our cries. He came to me in a vision not one week ago and said that nothing but the best will do for him this year. The men, women and children from the past - those whose bones are enshrined in our beloved temple for all time - will always be respected for their sacrifices but now we have another." Angerles lifted a hand and mimed in Iolaus direction. "A warrior, hunter, lover, reformed thief, and the best friend of Greece's greatest hero, the son of Zeus, Hercules! I give you Iolaus of Corinth!"  
  
The applause was deafening and Iolaus felt himself blush despite his fears.  
  
_The Sisters of Reclamation_ approached _The Chosen_ with bowls of sweet smelling liquid. Each fluid was tinted a different color and one by one a Sister dipped a corner of a delicately embroidered handkerchief inside. She then traced lines across Iolaus cheeks and forehead.  
  
"We are anointing you," The Sister Iolaus knew so well explained quietly. "You will be forever remembered after today, Iolaus." Then she untied his hands and kissed him gently on the lips. The other two Sisters did the same. Iolaus was too nervous to find pleasure in any of it.  
  
"And now," Minister Angerles continued, "the presentation of The Chosen's gift!"  
  
Iolaus was turned again; this time to look at the immense structure that was still covered by fabric.  
  
"Our patron god the magnificent god of fire, PYRO, will be served!"  
  
On cue, Hertuges moved to a long dangling rope and pulled hard.  
  
The fabric fell away to reveal a tall scaffolding made of wood. Underneath it was the largest pile of kindling Iolaus had ever seen. His eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized what was to happen to him.  
  
"Prepare the bonfire of life!" Angerles shouted.  
  
Iolaus struggled now, attempting desperately to break away from the temple guards who were holding him and dragging him to the scaffold, "This makes no sense!" Iolaus shouted to the mob behind him. "Pyro's dead! Hercules extinguished him a long time ago!" but his cries seemed to fall on deaf ears. "You're making sacrifices to a god that doesn't even exist anymore and even if he was alive this wouldn't matter! You're killing people for no reason. You're prospering because you are making yourself prosper! It's not "  
  
A cloth was then shoved into Iolaus mouth as his arms, legs and feet were bound firmly to a thick pole anchored on to the framework. He struggled with all of his might but he was still feeling the effects of the morning's drugging and his efforts proved futile.  
  
With the touch of a torch, the wood beneath Iolaus was set aflame. He could hear people singing and knew it was in honor of him. They don't understand. They're actually happy about this.' But then he saw men and women in the assemblage that did not seem joyful. He could see some women weeping and a few men who seemed to want to help but didn't know how or even if they should. It wasn't what they were taught.  
  
Iolaus was overcome with smoke and passed out, held up only by the rope that anchored him ridged to the scaffold.

* * *

They were off in the distance, able to hear very little, and not entirely secure with what it was they were watching. Hercules was just relieved to see a still living and breathing Iolaus being jostled up those steps onto the stage. Sure, he looked a little less than animated and not really himself but at least Iolaus wasn't dead. That in itself was reason for cheer.  
  
However, the moment Hercules saw his friend tied to the post and the wood underneath the platform exploding into flame he motioned to the rebels, "Go!" There was no time to lose.  
  
The revolutionaries emerged from their hiding places, headed by Palaxius and surrounded the square. Staffs and swords were held ready in anticipation of a violent outbreak and they were not disappointed. Most of the patrons ran for cover as over-confident temple soldiers fought the mutineers discovering themselves inexplicably matched.  
  
Then Hercules himself moved forward, punching his way through guardsmen and others whom thought to block his path. Hercules fought well but was hampered as the demigod was forced to take stock in the three crossbow arrows flying in his direction. He caught them in mid-air and broke them as he continued to proceed to the stage.  
  
Hercules watched between punches as Iolaus struggled against his restraints then gradually began to lose consciousness. Soon, the smoke grew so thick Hercules couldn't see his friend at all and he felt a deep dread.  
  
The Sisters of Reclamation quickly made their way off the platform, to watch all that was happening from a safe distance, but Angerles and a reluctant Hertuges stood their ground.  
  
"What shall we do, Minister?" Hertuges asked, his voice shaking. Eyes darted to the chaos below, watching and suddenly understanding that one of the rebels was Hercules. He had never left Gaspius as he vowed. "We're doomed!"  
  
"Nonesense! Pyro will prevail," Angerles insisted. He looked behind his shaking aide at the flames beginning to lick up the scaffold ready to engulf their sacrifice. "It won't be long now."  
  
"But the stranger said Pyro is dead. Can it be true?"  
  
_The wrong question._  
  
Stricken and incensed, Angerles' attention unexpectedly focused on his aide, "How dare you!" His tone seethed threat, as his face grew scarlet, "After all I have taught you! Pyro is supreme and I am Gaspius! You are not fit to be in our presence!"  
  
Then, with a strength unexpected by his young colleague, Angerles shoved him hard and the aide fell backward into the flames. His body was instantly engulfed and the young man's screams were agonized and heart wrenching.  
  
Angerles' thoughtless and cruel act caught more than one person's attention.  
  
The temple guards hesitated in their duties, physically fighting what they thought were unpatriotic outlaws. The riot in the square began to grow quiet as the citizens of Gaspius - many of them mothers and fathers - took in what had just happened. Gaspius' leader, their one oracle of truth, was a monster and they had fallen for all his lies.  
  
"What are you all looking at?" Angerles cried when he realized he was being stared at.  
  
By this time a band of rebels were carting large barrels of water to the burning scaffold and dousing the fire, unfortunately too late for Hertuges. The flames were so intense he was burned beyond recognition in just minutes.  
  
Hercules stood on the top step and was about to check on Iolaus when Palaxius passed at a run. With him were two others. "We'll get him, Hercules. You tend to Angerles. The people are on your side now."  
  
The smoke was slowly beginning to clear enough for him to see a sooty and seemingly unconscious Iolaus being cut free from the pole. Satisfied for the moment, Hercules then approached Angerles who, for some bizarre reason, did not seem intimidated, "Are you insane?" the demigod asked, attempting in vain to keep his voice steady. "If he's hurt."  
  
"For what you have done ..." Minister Angerles began then turned his tone up an octive for his now uncertain audience to hear. "For what he has done the great god Pyro will doom the citizens of Gaspius!" the Minister cried. Hearing the comforting gasps from a few of his listeners, the Minister continued: "Now, the only sacrifice that will be treated with any amount of respect will be the son of Zeus himself!" Angerles proclaimed. "I say we take him, burn him -- all for the greater glory of our patron! I say we destroy both of these men and all those who were involved with this sacrilege!"  
  
Yet, no one was making a move. All, even his trusted temple guards and the Sisters of Reclamation, were staring at Minister Angerles. No one believed him. He was crazy. He was done.  
  
"What you were doing wasn't for Gaspius," Hercules said. "It was for you. It was for power. You really might believe in what you were doing but, truly, it was for an evil force that ceased to exist years ago. Pyro is gone. He doesn't hear or see any of this. You were wrong, Angerles. You were just so horribly wrong."  
  
"No." Angerles backed up unwilling to believe what he was hearing.  
  
Regretful sobs came from the masses now. Fathers held their children a little closer. Mothers and wives fell into their men's embraces. They had all been erring and wronged.  
  
"Hercules!"  
  
He turned at Palaxius panicked call.  
  
"Iolaus isn't breathing! I...I...think he's dead."  
  
Hercules ran to his friend and knelt beside his prone body. He lifted him up by his slightly singed purple vest and shook Iolaus with fear and grief. "Iolaus ... wake up," his plea bordered on a demand.  
  
He attempted mouth to mouth resusitation.  
  
The young woman Hercules had been introduced to back at the hiding place kneeled across from Hercules and a sorrowful expression came over her face, "Hercules, it was the smoke. There was just too much. I'm sorry. Palaxius is right. He is dead."  
  
"Oh, no." The demigod stood and pulled Iolaus' lax form into his arms, "We've been here too many times. He is not dead and I won't accept that."  
  
Quickly, he made his way down the stage steps and carried his best friend across the square. The crowd respectfully parted for Hercules and followed him to the Tarsus River.  
  
Once there, Hercules walked into the cold water without hesitation and when it became waist deep he gently allowed Iolaus body to float on the surface as he spoke. "Irrigrotus! If you are a god who heals a being of infinite powers as we have all been told, please help me. I'll do anything for you if you will just bring him back. You can do it." Hercules voice grew low and thoughtful, "I've not been generous to a certain segment of my family but I need you, now. Tell me what I can do for you to make a miracle happen." The tears in Hercules eyes fell, to trail down his cheeks. "I'll do anything!" he repeated, his voice now chkoing with sobs.  
  
It was Sumeria all over again.  
  
Then the half-god felt a vibration. Everyone who stood on land by the river felt it.  
  
"Hercules," an echoing voice came from all around but there was no form. "Believe it or not, some gods don't require payment. We become disappointed in those who don't appreciate when we help them, true. But sometimes we do good deeds just to do them."  
  
Iolaus eyes blinked open.  
  
"Take care, cousin," and the voice that of Irrigrotus faded away.  
  
"Wow," Hercules murmured. The gods, as vain and cruel as some could be, could still surprise him.  
  
"What are you trying to do drown me?" Iolaus suddenly thrashed, spraying water this way and that and stood upright. "This water is freezing! I could catch pneumonia! And," with a start, Iolaus heard laughter and saw all of the people beside the river, including Palaxius. They seemed contented and somehow relieved. Hercules was chuckling too and the hunter realized why. "Er -- It wasn't that long ago that I was really warm, huh?" he asked but it was a statement. A little embarrassed, recalling his near roasting at the hands of Angerles, Iolaus whispered, "Umh, sorry, Herc. Thanks again."  
  
Hercules put his arms around his buddy and squeezed hard. "Iolaus, never change." 


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue

* * *

**

No one knew what happened to Minister Angerles. He had disappeared after they left him broken and demoralized on the stage in the city square. There had been a search party; after all, he was wanted for murder, but nothing ever came of it. Years later a rumor would come to Gaspius that the minister was spotted in India, attempting to sway the locals with a legend of a fire god that was real and superior to any they had ever seen. However, most felt he had gone off to die a quiet death somewhere and was now enjoying those flames he was always so enraptured with -- in Tartarus.  
  
It was the following morning in Gaspius and Iolaus had to attend to some business before he and Hercules left the city, with its less than charming memories.  
  
"Will you write me?" she asked him, blue eyes wide and a wistful smile on her lovely face, as he held her hand. She leaned forward, her lips just inches from his, but unable to connect.  
  
"Of course I will." Iolaus assured and reached out awkwardly with his other hand to touch her left cheek, "Be well."  
  
The woman settled back with a bounce in her barred carriage, along with the other _Sisters of_ _Reclamation_. Prison wouldn't be so bad as long as she had something to look forward to when she got out. The Sister smiled and looked at the girl beside her. "I think he really likes me," she said giddily.  
  
Iolaus carefully unwound his arms away from the bars as the horses began to trot and the prison carriage pulled the ladies away. He waved graciously until he couldn't see the carriage anymore then let his arms drop.  
  
"You amaze me," Hercules sighed, standing behind his friend, arms folded as he leaned against a post. He wore a skeptical yet somehow moderate expression. "She was trying to kill you, Iolaus."  
  
"I know." He shrugged and turned to approach his friend. "But I feel sorry for her and the other Sisters. It wasn't totally their fault. They honestly thought they were just doing the job they were supposed to do. It was something they were brought up to do, practically from birth." Then he added, "And, you know, she really does have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."  
  
"Hopeless," Hercules murmured as they now walked down the street together, moving slowly out of town.  
  
Gaspius was on the mend. The new city council, moderated by both the young rebels and a few of the more practical adults, were working together. It would be tough to push aside fifty years of tradition but all were willing to give it a try. All on the council agreed there would be no more human sacrifices, they would start farming again and, to the relief of both Iolaus and Hercules, Pyro would no longer be the city's patron god. Irrigrotus was the top contender. Hercules suggested the council not to worry about any type of patron at least until they were better able to distinguish between the pragmatic gods and the evil. They told him they would consider his suggestion.  
  
The men continued to walk and as they met up with the trail just outside the city, Hercules had a thought. "Well, I don't know about you, buddy, but I have a craving for something good to eat."  
  
Coming from Hercules this was odd.  
  
Iolaus looked up at him, "Really?" he asked, "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"How about some _smoked_ salmon."  
  
"Oh, don't Hercules."  
  
"Or maybe some _blackened_ quail."  
  
"Come on, Herc."  
  
"Oh, I know! A _roasted_ boar with a _fried_ apple in its mouth."  
  
"Stop it, Hercules!"  
  
The demigod could barely prevent a laugh, "Well, you asked and I just thought I'd share. Hey, how about some _Bar B Q_ spare ribs?"  
  
"You're evil, just evil."  
  
Hercules and Iolaus were off to search for another adventure.

* * *

**_The End _**


End file.
